


Returning

by WahlBuilder



Category: Mars: War Logs, The Technomancer (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Returning Home
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-25 03:03:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17716802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WahlBuilder/pseuds/WahlBuilder
Summary: Melvin has been away from Noctis for six weeks, but now he's returned.





	Returning

Melvin has been away from Noctis for six weeks, and it feels like years. His heart is full of his city, the sounds, scents, sights washing over him, pouring into him. He crosses the Caravanserail in a sprint, waving after greetings. He takes the main Palatial stairs two at a time, his long coat flapping against his legs, rushes through the golden door — and nearly bumps into someone.

He steps aside with a murmured apology — then catches a smile that he knows, a face he recognizes. Councilor Jaya. He glances at the jewelry woven on the headscarf. Half-moons. Jaya is a woman today.

He bows slightly. “Mistress.”

“ _Corvo_.” She smiles. “Your tattoos are healing nicely.”

His face heats up a little: Mistress Equanimity asked whether she could make the pattern of her own choosing, and he, the fool, agreed, and now he has marks on his chin that mirror Dandolo’s. “They are. I hoped we would continue shortly.”

“I’m sure Equanimity would clear her schedule just for you, _fradelo_.” She smiles again, then glances up. “He’s there. Not sleeping well, they say.”

He sighs. “As usual.”

“Hopefully, you will tire him completely.” She winks and moves past him as he splutters at the meaning.

Then he takes a few moments to calm down, to fix his double-breasted coat — he had no time to change, no desire to delay his return to Noctis further — and walks up to the Prince’s balcony.

Dandolo is perched on the banisters, a few Councilors by his side, and Melvin… Melvin’s heart beats stronger.

He is home.

“The Order greets Noctis!” he announces.

Dandolo looks straight at him and smiles. He has many smiles. Melvin knows this one is for him.

“Noctis greets the Order — and Dandolo greets Melvin,” Dandolo replies, hopping off his perch, squeezing hands with the Councilors.

They move past with slight chuckles and “ _Corvo!_ ”. He ducks his head, hiding a too-wide grin.

He’s home.

“How are the peace talks?” Dandolo asks, going to a low table and picking a pitcher, filling a cup with tea. It is steaming when Dandolo carries it to Melvin.

Melvin closes his fingers on it — and on Dandolo’s hand, the spark running to Dandolo’s skin the evidence of how long he’s been away.

Melvin aches, searching the familiar face, and it’s a good ache.

He takes a sip, closing his eyes for a moment, the warm tea sweet and flowery. Then looks at Dandolo again. “Two steps forward — a step and a half back. Most of the Assembly are conservative fools, but there are fresh, energetic voices: Bulgakova and Eliza Major are not easily silenced.” He takes another sip, licks drops off his upper lip — and catches Dandolo looking. “And the war-mongering populists are curiously quiet, do you know anything about that and dealings of a certain brother of yours?”

Dandolo moves away, the most innocent expression on his face, and spreads his arms. “Not the foggiest, dear ambassador.”

Melvin takes him in, takes him in, the whole handsome figure, and braids, and the blue tunic stretched over his broad form, and the subtle pattern on the tunic, and the…

It takes him a few moments to return to the political news. “The presence of the technomancers electrifies the atmosphere, but the presence of the Conduit discharges it.”

“His glory walks thunderous.”

Oh, he missed Dandolo, he missed Noctis and their way of speaking. He missed home.

“It does indeed. He is bonded to two non-technomancers, and is a brother to one of ours. There is hope.”

Dandolo smiles. It is a private smile, a gentle smile. “So it seems.”

“General Grant was opposed to the Conduit’s involvement — he is outside the state, after all — but Eliza Major asked for his blessing.”

“Very clever.”

“Indeed.”

The news trickle out, and they stare at each other, drinking each other in. And then Melvin falls forward just as Dandolo opens his arms, and Melvin presses his lips to Dandolo’s, and then their foreheads together, too.

“I’m home,” he whispers, closing his eyes tight, holding onto Dandolo, the clothes, soft, rich, bunched in his hands.

“You are,” Dandolo says against his cheek. “You are.”


End file.
